


Negotiating Terms

by valda



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3904177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valda/pseuds/valda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written for the <a href="http://cosleia.tumblr.com/post/118356362613/send-me-a-number-and-a-pairing-and-ill-do-a">kiss meme</a>. jathis asked: Earl/Marcus: 6 ("I'm sorry" kiss)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Negotiating Terms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jathis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jathis/gifts).



"You can't _buy_ me, Marcus. You have _nothing_ I want."

Earl realized what he'd said before he even finished saying it. But he was still angry. He stood violently straight and utterly still, but his pulse was pounding in his neck and wrists, and his hands twitched, eager for release.

The last time this had happened, he'd flung Marcus' gift off the balcony. A watch was a little easier to throw than a car, though.

The man in front of him--a man he loved, yes, but a man who was categorically, undeniably frustrating--sprawled back into the plush chaise lounge with a huff, draping his arms across the back and propping up an ankle on the opposite knee. As usual, Marcus was completely nude, save for the thick gold and ivory rings on his fingers. He looked away from Earl, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling, but his affected disinterest was betrayed by the bright pink splotches on his neck, chest, and cheekbones.

Earl studiously ignored the pleasant contrast of the flush against Marcus' milky skin. "Listen," he said, hands going to his hips as though he were lecturing his scouts, "you're never going to find a gift that makes me suddenly say, 'Oh, wow, gee, Marcus, I love gifts now!' I'm just not that guy. I don't want gifts. I've never wanted gifts."

"Whatever," Marcus drawled.

Earl dropped his hands back to his sides, then flung them into the air, then could no longer help himself and began stalking around the room. "I don't _want_ this," he said. "And not because of what people might think. If I cared about _that_ , I wouldn't be with you to _begin with_. It's not like I'm afraid people will think you keep me like a pet." He stopped, turned back toward Marcus. "I know who I am. I know I'm not a pet. The people who matter know I'm not a pet. _You_ should know I'm not a pet."

He whirled on the car, and it was all he could do not to drive a fist into its side. "You should know me by now," he said instead, balled hands trembling at his sides. "You should know that I don't want treats. That I don't _need_ treats. That I--I'm--"

Marcus had risen from the chaise and moved next to Earl, placed a hand on his shoulder. It was a stark reminder of everything that wasn't enough.

"You always--you always _do this_ ," Earl gritted. "Keep me at a _distance_ , like I'm not--"

Abruptly he could no longer speak, as his face was pressed into Marcus' collarbone. One of Marcus' arms was tight around his shoulders, the other around his waist.

"Yeah," Marcus said roughly. "I'm not...real good at this."

Earl blinked rapidly against the sudden wetness in his eyes. He slid his own hands around Marcus' sides and up his back, turning his head to nestle it into Marcus' neck. "You _do_ have something I want," he said quietly. "This. This is what I want. I just...want you to _hold_ me."

Marcus' hold tightened. Earl gripped tighter too, closing his eyes and letting out a long sigh.

A light kiss at his temple surprised his eyes back open. "Well...sorry," Marcus said awkwardly. "I think I get it now. No more presents."

"No more presents," Earl hummed contentedly.

"Do...do dinners count?"

"Dinner is okay, as long as I can treat you sometime."

Marcus laughed a little. "You can't afford me."

Earl growled and bit Marcus on the collarbone. He was rewarded with a sudden intake of breath and a fluttery shudder of the billionaire's hands. "I can afford to take you to Arby's," Earl said. "And you can afford to like it."


End file.
